The Calm Before the Storm

The power outage rain had stopped, but the world remained dark. Thick clouds still blanketed the sun, painting everything in a murky gray, or perhaps it was my own darkened heart acting like a pair of tinted glasses, staining my vision. In a world like this, even if you wanted to see things positively and brightly, you simply couldn't. Heat, sudden showers, blackouts. I busied myself on the rooftop of the villa building, checking the water tank. The tank I'd left wide open during the rain was now quite full. I wasn't sure if it was from collecting rainwater or if there had already been a lot left. I tapped the tank with a dull thunk thunk and stared at the bleach in my hand, deep in thought.

"How much should I add to disinfect it?"

According to the materials Professor Kim had given me, rainwater could be disinfected with bleach and used as drinking water. Was it two drops per liter, or four? For a tank this size… I poured it in roughly by eye. After finally closing the water tank, I slowly approached the rooftop railing and looked out over the street.

The street had become a wasteland. We had made it that way. We'd made it look like no one lived here, like there was nothing worth scavenging. Broken windows, scattered trash and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠corpses. The farmhouse building we'd moved into had been similarly trashed.

At this point, hiding and huddling is the best option. There's no need to look like we're living well or in good shape. We have to look like everyone else so we don't become targets for looting.

It was a world slowly dying. It was only right that we looked like people slowly dying too. Staring at this scene brought strange thoughts to mind. Just how long could I, could our marauder group, survive? People who couldn't create anything, who only killed, stole, and left behind corpses. Maybe marauders only had the advantage in the early stages of the apocalypse, and later on, those with technology and production capabilities would come out on top.

I smirked quietly as I looked down at the street.

Pointless worries.

Summer was the immediate problem; why was I thinking about some distant future? And if we really ran short of something, we could just loot it. Materials, knowledge, people. Anything at all.

With that, I headed back to the farmhouse villa, bleach in hand.

A few days later, the farmhouse villa had a new look. I opened the front door and stepped inside.

"I finished disinfecting the water tank."

"You're back? We've gathered up all the remaining supplies too."

The other marauder comrades were sitting on the floor, spreading out all sorts of odds and ends, sorting them one by one into plastic bags or boxes. Batteries pulled from gas stoves in other villas, power banks, wires, cell phones, keys, lighters, and so on. These were resources we'd put off until after food and drinking water, only now getting around to them.

I let out a groan and sat on the floor. These criminals rubbed their shoulders and thighs too. The aftereffects of hauling rice sacks, kimchi, and water up and down the stairs of an elevator-less villa had hit us. Body aches and muscle pain.

"I can't do any more heavy lifting. You can't cheat age," Park Yanggun said, suddenly lying flat. His voice was laced with pain, like he was genuinely hurting.

Sa Gihyeok, for once, said something appropriate. "You're still better at work than I am."

"No, I can't. I really can't. Aigoo, how am I supposed to do the dishes or laundry? There's no hot water either."

I smiled bitterly. The electricity was gone. All the conveniences of civilization we'd taken for granted had ground to a halt. Boilers, washing machines, TVs, refrigerators, air conditioners, fans, vacuums, lights… Our standard of living had reverted to the Middle Ages overnight. Using collected rainwater, fanning ourselves when it got hot, washing clothes by hand, no hot showers.

I suddenly glanced at Jeon Dohyeong. Even if a sliver of goodness remained in him, it was just a sliver. He'd committed too many irreversible crimes, and he was a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠thief who'd stolen electricity from public facilities back when society was still intact. Could this electricity thief accept a life without power?

"You okay? No electricity, you know."

"Huh? Oh. I'm fine. It's got that camping vibe, which is nice."

Jeon Dohyeong, who had been diligently putting batteries into a box, suddenly looked up. What? He really seemed completely fine. I pondered for a moment before cautiously guessing at his psychology. An electricity thief. Did the absence of electricity make stealing it even more fun? As expected, a person's true nature doesn't change.

As if on cue, Sa Gihyeok suddenly spoke up.

"So what do we do now? We can't farm anymore either, right?"

All eyes turned to me. I pretended to think for a moment, then slowly leaned back against the wall.

"Any ideas? Something about scarce resources, ways to obtain them, dealing with the blackout, that sort of thing."

In truth, I'd already reached a conclusion. For the time being, we'd stay put. But I needed to send the signal that I was listening to my comrades' input and considering their opinions.

Jeon Dohyeong leaned toward me. "Don't we not need to do anything more? We've stockpiled plenty of food and water. Even if we just eat lettuce, it looks like it'll last a month."

"Well…"

I deliberately showed signs of pondering as I adjusted my mask. If I accepted too easily, the sense of accomplishment would diminish. I'd have to pretend to reject it at first before agreeing—that would maximize the effect.

I deliberately looked at Park Yanggun. He waved his hand dismissively and let it drop, as if he couldn't do anything.

"If we push ourselves any harder here, we'll break down. There's no reason to move anyway."

"Still, shouldn't we prepare countermeasures against other marauders? Even though we've made it look like a ruin, some people will only believe it if they see it with their own eyes."

That was the opinion of Park Yanggun and Sa Gihyeok. I closed my eyes, then slowly opened them.

"No need to do anything more outside. We don't lack any immediate resources, and there's no reason to risk getting hurt for nothing. Let's just prepare countermeasures against marauders and scavengers."

"Sounds good."

Jeon Dohyeong nodded quickly. The look of relief was clear on his face. An unreadable light gathered in his eyes. I stood up energetically and grinned.

"We've got the most rice and kimchi left, so let's use that. If we smear some with zombie blood or saliva and leave it in a few houses, the scavengers who eat it will turn, right?"

It was a shame we couldn't get Botox or pufferfish poison. My criminal comrades stared at me blankly for a moment before slowly nodding. It seemed they didn't find defensive traps particularly distasteful.

"Jeon Dohyeong. Don't you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠know how to set traps? If you've been camping, you must know some for catching animals, right?"

"No. That's not camping."

His serious expression, as if I'd insulted camping itself, seemed genuine. We began rising one by one from our seats, but Park Yanggun stayed lying down, his eyes rolling around. He made a half-hearted attempt to get up, groaning in pain. He really must hate working. I pressed down firmly on his shoulder, forcing him back down.

"Rest at home."

"But I should at least help with my hands."

It was an obvious lie, but resting was the right call. I'd given him a reason for it first.

"We can't even run a fan, and if you work in this heat wearing extra layers, you'll die. Don't risk heatstroke— just rest."

With the power out, there was no way to regulate body temperature. Air conditioning was out of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠question, and we couldn't use the ice packs we'd frozen in the fridge. The heat had become an extreme danger we could neither avoid nor block.

Park Yanggun forced himself to sit up halfway and pointed at the batteries left on the floor.

"I'll organize these at least. Have a good one."

"Sure."

And so we headed out to the street.

We killed a lone wandering zombie and quickly smeared its blood and saliva onto the bait. Blood on the kimchi, saliva on the rice. We knew better than to waste good food, so we used kimchi that had already gone too sour to eat and rice that had gotten soaked in the rain. Once we hid the bait inside house refrigerators or in corners, the job was done.

We chatted as we carefully moved between villas. If there were no zombies, we used the front doors; if we spotted any, we jumped from rooftop to rooftop. Sa Gihyeok was sweating buckets, looking like he was about to die.

"Ha, ha. No air conditioning is actually killing me. Can't even eat ice anymore."

"Right?"

I fell into thought. There were still many areas where the power was intact. Maybe we could locate survivors by the sound of air conditioner outdoor units running? Or lure them out by offering to sell ice and kill them.

Jeon Dohyeong shook a small handheld fan. It looked like one kids used, complete with some robot sticker on it.

"Still, we can use handheld fans with power banks and cars. This much is lucky, I guess."

I glanced at him. The old man's earlier suspicions had affected me too. That comment about how he could return to the Hope Church anytime. No matter how much I influenced his mind, this guy still had a final escape route. He'd even suggested going back to the Hope Church, and didn't he have a girlfriend there too?

"How's the Hope Church? Is your girlfriend still alive?"

"Huh?"

Jeon Dohyeong, who had been about to cross a ladder propped against the rooftop railing, froze. He looked at me with eyes full of suspicion and a faint hint of madness.

"Why are you asking?"

"Our area's power is out. If theirs is fine, go charge a power bank or something and bring it back. If we can't even turn on our phones, we'll really have nothing to do. I want to save fuel for winter."

Jeon Dohyeong, who had kept his mouth tightly shut, suddenly smiled bitterly.

"They say the power's still on over there. But you're really not going back to the Hope Church? The Evangelist and the Administrative Elder said they'd welcome you back if you returned, Deacon Kwon."

He still trusted me. Or maybe he wanted the knowledge from Professor Kim that I possessed. In a situation with blackouts, rainy seasons, and incoming typhoons, that knowledge would be useful.

I thought for a moment before replying casually, as if it were nothing.

"If we went back, would the Hope Church even stay intact?"

The church where the Pastor had died, the now-shrunken Hope Church, the wiped-out Villa Street. Jeon Dohyeong shuddered as if he'd realized something.

"You're right. I must be crazy. Let's just keep holding out here."

In reality, there was no reason to return. They'd face blackouts there too, and group living made them vulnerable to waterborne diseases. On an individual level, we had more resources. That was when it happened.

Sa Gihyeok, who had been standing there blankly, suddenly pointed somewhere beyond the rooftop.

"There's a motorcycle coming?"

"How many?"

"Just one. What is it?"

A marauder? I quickly leaned over the railing, poking my head out, and spotted a familiar figure. The Delivery Vigilantes. Rider Zero.

Shuk shuk. Rider Zero, dodging zombies and obstacles, sped over, tossed what looked like a piece of paper at the front door, and shouted loudly.

"Letter for you!"